How I am still sane I will never know.

By 'sane' insert what counts as the base-line for me personally; which unfortunately, isn't quite up to the par of your average non-headfucked individual. It's been a good few weeks since I last keyed a post into my blog and the time, it seems, has passed in somewhat of an overworked, pressure-cooked blur of stress.

Work has finally completed the hand-over to the outsourcers who are basically now doing my job and that of the two lucky gits who got made redundant by choice. Oddly though, since I am effectively out of a job I've never been so busy!

I am, still waiting for the official alternative job offer and took the liberty of nudging the boss about it last Friday making certain to mention the key points of “in writing” and “something I can say yes to”. Given the recent hand over to the outsourcers, he's had a lot on his mind and so, basically I think I'm in for a good months wait or so to see anything more.

But I did catch the look at the remark I made imply it should be “something I can say yes to”, with any luck that brazen swipe will stick in his head and if he's got half a clue at reading people (debatable, although it wouldn't be a long discourse) he'll realise the subtext to that remark and it will cause him some worry.

That hasn't stopped my new supervisor from trying to integrate me into his team – although, poor chap, I've been griping a lot and resisting his efforts – it's not his fault admittedly, but I'm not being drawn into any new roles without a new job actually being offered to me. I'm not risking walking into the job voluntarily as that is fundamentally acceptance by action; as so few opportunities ever arise to really screw an employer back I'm determined to ride this one out until either I get a satisfactory outcome or theres absolutely nothing left to attack with.

They are however, going to have to bribe me to take the new position - I'm not certain a reasonable offer of a couple of thousand quid would be incentive enough anymore. It might be fair to say that I am so far past jaded that we've run out of pretty coloured gemstones to describe my apathy toward my employment.

I've tried to be positive, I've tried to see the advantage in taking something I don't believe I want in view of the bigger picture and in the final analysis, it would seem that even I can't trick myself into mustering any enthusiasm at all; I am not interested in working there. Of course, should the boss suddenly decide that all this hassle isn't worth it and that he should have taken retirement years ago... that would help my will to stay persevere. :D

The man, frankly, is an embarrassment to us.

To make it worse I've realized that I don't think he is deliberately belittling me because he thinks I don't know my arse from my elbow; quite to opposite – its just a side-effect of his lack of understanding. There was an event the other day though where I was totally over-ruled despite having a second-opinion to back me up simply because the boss hadn't a clue what either of us were explaining – if I had any less self-restraint he would have had his head ripped off. If he had been a bloke in a pub making me feel that humiliated in front of others I would have threatened to fucking beat the shit out of him there and then. I'm not a pretty sight, nor entirely reasonable, when I feel persecuted; my demons are nasty, aggressive little bastards and they only live a milli-metre or two under the surface.

All in all, I'm sitting tight and I'm going to ride this wave of crap out into the new year, if push comes to shove, the run up to Christmas is hardly the best time to start looking at the job market. All-in-all though, the job offer had better be something I cannot with any credibility or sanity (ha!) refuse – otherwise I have a feeling I might tell him to stick it up his proverbial. I'm almost willing that moment to arrive!

This is one totally broken employee. I'm working my guts out dealing with the issues between us and the outsourcers but underneath it all I spend most of my time dreaming of not being there anymore.

In more happy news however, I was treated to a nice long weekend break in Prague by Shortstuff in honour (?!) of my thirtieth birthday. What an absolute feast for the eyes that city is; sure the outskirts are composed of bleak, communist style tower blocks (which in themselves are a spot of culture to behold from a western European perspective) but the heart of the city is stunning. Somehow it pretty much escaped being flattened during the world wars so the architecture remains intact. Totally gorgeous. A perfect way to remind yourself just what a total shit hole the U.K. is. :b

I have also reached the conclusion having read an article in the news, that the only thing stopping the news media from crying out about an emigration crisis is the immigration crisis! A staggering 10% of Britons don't live in the UK and during 2005 the rate of departure had reached 2,000 people a week. I'm sure the staggeringly bewildering increase in emigration during Labour's term in office won't form part of their next election campaign...

I could go on more but between my job, the usual commercially-based hassle of Christmas (which frankly neutralizes any sense of cheer of goodwill for the season) and giving up smoking – it really is quite remarkable I'm not making a bee-line to the nearest funny-farm. Or perhaps, I 'am' really near the edge and, true to form, have neglected to notice.

9 Days without smoking... Of course, now instead of booking a one way ticket to hell via lung cancer I'll probably have all my teeth rot out from the sheer volume of NiQuitin mints I'm consuming!

The bloody cravings are getting worse too! The first few days are never much of a problem, now the going gets tough.

Fundamentally I've smoked since I was fifteen or sixteen, my best record of quitting was about three months back when I was seventeen. Since then I've only managed a day or two and about 10 days once, so in a couple of days I will have beaten my second best record.

It's going to be weird from here on out, I've no concept of recognising myself as a non-smoker. No idea whats keeping me from temptation at the moment, I just seem to have said "30. Thats it, time to give up."

I think its a case of I can't face lapsing and having to start from day one again!!